


I Fought The Law (and the law grounded me)

by thinksleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, The rest of canon has been left to die in a ditch, This follows the bits of canon I liked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 04:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinksleep/pseuds/thinksleep
Summary: John Stilinski was on a mission.Apparently, werewolves were the easiest part of that mission.





	I Fought The Law (and the law grounded me)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in my first year of uni, and got about 7k words done. Four years later, I've moved into a new place and there's been no internet for a week, I found this on my laptop and decided to finish it. There may be hope yet.
> 
> (Apologies for any differences to canon, it's been so long since I watched this show, and I've read so much fanfic since then, I've forgotten what actually happened)
> 
> Also, Stiles is 17 at the start of this, and turns 18 during the story, nothing romantic happens between Stiles and Derek until after this, therefore no archive warnings have been applied.

-

-

-

**i. I fought the law **

John Stilinski had been the Sheriff in Beacon Hills for a number of years. He succeeded the last Sheriff, Sheriff Hartright, after the man’s retirement. Hartright had, before he left, given John a firm handshake, a smile, and said ‘good luck, son’, which was practically affectionate for the man.

John believed himself a good Sheriff, without sounding cocky; he tried to maintain a healthy balance of fair and firm, the closing rate on cases had increased during his time as Sheriff, and so far none of his deputies had anonymously put up satirical cartoons of him around the office, it had been quite the problem when Hartright was in charge. John appreciated the work the man did for Beacon Hills, but even he could admit Hartright was a hardass. Although nothing escaped the man; not a subtle twitch in a suspect, or a nervous tick in his employees, not even a sideways glance could escape his notice. It was one of the man’s saving graces in his job. John liked to believe he had increased his observational skills since when he first started as a deputy. In fact, until The Situation had occurred, John had foolishly believed his skills might have rivaled Hartright.

The Situation had a vague, yet capitalized name, due to it being important, but John not knowing exactly was The Situation was.

John’s observational skills had gotten him thus far: Derek Hale had returned to Beacon Hills eighteen months ago. The frequent and increasing number of animal attacks in Beacon Hills had started eighteen months ago. Stiles’ frequent and increasing lies to him had started eighteen months ago.

This all combined with Stiles’ regular stream of bumps and bruises (occurring at a higher rate than clumsiness would allow), and a string of concerned citizens stating they had seen his son hanging around Derek Hale in varying points throughout town lead John to the conclusion that the three aforementioned points were most likely connected. How they were connected John was unsure, aside from his son and Derek opening a mountain lion fighting ring. Which seemed unlikely, Stiles had always been a sucker for bringing any animals home after all, and John definitely would have noticed that.

Hartright would probably have solved it by now.

John mentally opened a case file in his head, documenting all evidence he had collected so far; Derek Hale’s appearance in town, the animal attacks, Stiles’ lying, Stiles’ injuries, Stiles and Derek’s sudden friendship. Also Stiles’ growing collection of first aid kits, there were ones in the bathroom, both bedrooms, the living room, the Jeep, and one that John spotted at the McCall household that was too similar to the ones at his own home to be anything other than Stiles’ doing. Even for someone as clumsy as Stiles, nobody needed that many first aid kits, what injury could be so bad (without need of a hospital) that you didn’t have the time to run downstairs for a plaster?

Especially since Stiles seemed more coordinated as of late, obviously he would never be graceful, he was still Stiles, but John had noticed Stiles’ hand-eye coordination had improved; he dropped far fewer objects these days. John would of simply put it down to lacrosse finally having a positive impact if it wasn’t everything else that seemed to have happened recently, and the fact that he couldn’t sneak up on Stiles anymore.

It seemed like an inconsequential point, and he had never deliberately tried to sneak up on his son. However, whenever he came down for breakfast in the mornings Stiles used to jump a mile when John greeted him, often loudly proclaiming he should give John a bell to wear to save him the heart attack. Nowadays Stiles cheerily greeted John without even turning from what he was doing, most of the time even before John had entered the kitchen.

It was troubling to say the least, mostly because John could not pin this change to lacrosse or anything similar. Something he wasn’t aware of had caused his son to become more alert and aware of his surroundings. He would put his badge on the line to bet it was something to do with The Situation.

Once the can was open, every single odd or unusual behaviour Stiles had exhibited over the last eighteen months, anything that had even minutely blipped on the radar of out of character, became a warning sign. And all of it went in John’s mental folder.

John was going to close this case.

-

1\. Erica and Boyd

John hadn’t really heard of Boyd before Stiles started hanging around him, but he knew Erica. It was, after all, still a very small town. Also, after some students at the school posted a video of her during a seizure, her parents had come to the station to get them cautioned. John felt bad for the kid, she’d come with them to let the station know which of her classmates had done it, she was red faced and mumbling, hair falling into her face in an attempt to hide, with baggy clothes and her shoulders hunched to make herself seem smaller.

John had been on patrol in town a few weeks ago and had seen her fetching coffee with Stiles; John was trying to work out who was going to be drinking the eight coffees they had balanced between them. Although he was ashamed to say he hadn’t recognised her in town, it was only when he was talking with Stiles later that evening, that he put the pieces together.

(“Just hanging out with Erica”

“Erica Reyes?”

“Yeah, you okay dad? You’re acting weird.”

In his haste to cover up his own suspicion, John forgot to ask about the eight coffees.)

Erica certainly looked nothing like the meek girl he’d met at the station. She held her head high, her hair curled and styled to show her face, and her clothes probably more form fitting than her parents were comfortable with.

He realised that this change, and her and Boyd’s appearance in Stiles’ friendship group had occurred not long after the ‘eighteen months ago’ marker that every bullet point in ‘The Situation’ seemed to be centered around.

John had briefly considered that she and Stiles were dating, accounting for Stiles’ recent weirdness. However, after issuing Erica and Boyd with a warning about public indecency when he found them in a state of undress early one morning in the woods, he figures it was more likely that those two were dating. Besides, if Stiles were dating a girl, especially one as beautiful as Erica, John would have heard about it by now.

Repeatedly.

He vividly remembers the Martin girl saga.

However, this did not automatically eliminate them from John’s unofficial investigation. They were both also friends with Derek Hale, and all points of interest had started roughly eighteen months ago. John was becoming surer by the day that something had happened eighteen months ago, and everything was connected. He just needed to prove it. He needed more evidence.

2\. Scott

Scott no longer has asthma. John wasn’t even sure if that was medically possible.

John had seen Scott run after the delivery boy, on Scott and Stiles’ movie night, when the kid accidently left with one of the boy’s pizzas. When Scott had returned triumphant with the meat feast he hadn’t even looked out of breath. John was still wondering how he’d even caught the damn car up, it must’ve been going at least 30mph.

3\. Lydia Martin and Derek Hale

Lydia Martin’s attack at the high school and subsequent two-day trek through the woods was connected somehow as well. John knew it.

He had heard Stiles say the name ‘Lydia Martin’ so many times even he had started referring to the girl by her full name in his head. However, while Stiles did still talk about the Martin girl, it wasn’t with the same frequency or adoration that it had previously been. While he spoke about her intellectual prowess in math or Latin it carried a fonder note, less lovelorn than before.

While John was glad Stiles had gotten over his unrequited crush, he was worried it was because Stiles was crushing on someone else. The amount of times John had driven home from the station to see Hale’s Camaro parked three streets away, only to pull up in the drive and see the man himself climbing out of his son’s bedroom window, was, quite frankly, alarming. But John knew if he mentioned it to Stiles, the boy would just become more covert about their meetings, John preferred to keep an eye on the situation until he had all the facts. He could always just interrogate Hale, however, he always ran the risk Hale would tell Stiles.

Also, every time Hale saw him in the street, or in a shop, his eyes would widen and he’d turn tail and run before John could even get a word out. Which didn’t really help his case.

4\. Melissa McCall

John liked Melissa, he really did. She had been one of his wife’s best friends, and she supported him after her death, helped him look after Stiles and quit drinking, he really couldn’t thank her enough. He owed her so much.

It didn’t mean that he could overlook her behaviour though. After Stiles started lying, after he started hanging out with Derek, Isaac, Erica and Boyd, after the start of everything that had happened, Melissa started lying to him, only a little, and infrequently and then for a while she avoided him and refused to meet his eye. Eventually it went back to normal, the Sheriff had thought it was unusual at the time, but overlooked it, he’d had bigger problems at that point. Now though, now he thought it could possibly link into everything else.

-

He also had to fit in the death of Isaac’s father, the subsequent adoption application by Hale (denied), and possibly Jackson’s restraining order in all of this.

This was getting complicated.

He was going to need a physical file. Or possibly a pin board and some string.

-

That was how his investigation started.

It ended, however, far quicker than he was originally anticipating, although, that was more likely due to the pixie infestation rather than his own skills as a detective. Hartright would have been ashamed.

-

John liked to think he was calm under pressure; he could put aside his own feelings until he was out of a dangerous situation. Without sounding cocky, it was what made him a damn good Sheriff. However, after being grabbed and bagged by winged, wrinkled creatures with pitch black eyes that don’t blink, he feels he is well within his right to freak out a little.

After six hours the initial freaking out had died down to a minimum.

He was being held in a rope net that was strung from the rafters of the building he was in; the winged creatures weren’t there, and hadn’t been for a while. John wondered if it was bad hostage etiquette to fall asleep out of sheer boredom. It seemed easy enough to escape, the creatures had left all the doors unlocked as far as John could tell, and some of them had even been left ajar. It was just getting down from the net that was the difficult part. It was also unlikely that anyone would notice his disappearance from work as he had managed to finally get two consecutive days off to spend with his son. Typical, he wasn’t even getting paid for this crap.

It was at that moment that several creatures came back in; John felt his fear level spike back up – what the hell were those things? They swooped down, prodded at John a few times, he let out a yelp of indignation; _those fingers were sharp goddamn_. They gave him a reproachful look, and flew off again.

Whatever kind of creature they were they seemed uninterested in seriously harming him. John made a mental note to ask the town vet if he’d ever heard of any kind of animal like it, although even if Deaton did know, he would probably be as vague as usual. Frequent trips to his office due to animal attacks, had not endeared John to the man. At that moment a deafening roar filled the quiet of the warehouse, rattling the windows. John jumped violently at the sudden noise and sent the net he was in swinging. That definitely wasn’t the winged creature, their cries had sounded more like yowling cats, and in comparison this sounded more like that infamous mountain lion.

John tensed in preparation for whatever the hell was about to prowl through that door. The door on the left side of the warehouse slammed open and-

Stiles ran through. Carrying a baseball bat.

“Stiles?” John shouted. Stiles looked up, he looked happy?

“Thank god! GUYS!” he yelled back through the door in which he’d just come, “Guys, I found him!”

A howl went up through the air and it raised the hairs on the back of John’s neck, and he remembered the roar from before.

“Stiles!” John hissed. “You have to hide, now!” John started struggling with the rope that was holding him, trying to get to his son. All he succeeded in doing was rocking the net back and forth more.

“Why?” Stiles whispered back, looking around gormlessly, as if he hadn’t just heard that howl. “Oh! The- nah, I’ll be fine.” John didn’t know how his son was still alive if this was his reaction to danger. Stiles had gone mad, the Adderall had finally fried his brain, John was officially declaring it, just as soon as he got down from this goddamn net and got his son out of here.

“Hide!” John shouted to Stiles as he heard footfalls getting louder, Stiles just stood there like he was trying to work out how to get John down. The door on the right slammed open and something furry and fanged was running straight for Stiles.

“STILES!” John was clawing the net.

The fanged thing stopped in front of Stiles, stood upright properly and – that fanged and furry thing looked strangely humanoid now it was stood up on two legs. It also had a crooked jaw and looked suspiciously Scott shaped.

John squinted. That was Scott. That was Scott with stick on sideburns and those fake Halloween fangs. If Stiles and Scott were pulling some kind of prank, John was going to kill Stiles himself.

Then a wolf ran in.

Like, an actual wolf.

“Holy- Stiles, Scott! Get OUT OF HERE!”

Stiles and Scott turned to look at the wolf, before turning to look back up at John and talked about maybe getting a ladder to get him down.

John franticly wondered if he was going mad and just imagining the wolf, or if poor survival skills were somehow contagious.

Scott seemed to realise how freaked out John was, he nudged Stiles with his elbow and pointed. Stiles seemed to jolt at this. “Oh, erm, shit. It’s okay Dad, he’s friendly?” He turned to the beast, which had come to stand next to him, “Good boy?” The wolf growled low and threateningly.

Friendly? John was going to kill Stiles.

“Stiles, just get out of the building, and call the police, or animal control, okay?” John tried to keep his voice even, not wanting to spook the animal that had its teeth so close to his son.

Then it happened. John didn’t think even Hartright would have got this one.

The wolf shifted into a human, and not just any human, Derek Hale.

John would not have believed it had he not been watching the wolf so closely. He still wasn’t quite sure he believed it; maybe he’d been drugged. But he’d seen it. He watched the hair recede, the bones shift under skin. He watched a wolf turn into Derek Hale.

Hale took one look at his face and rounded on Stiles.

“You said you were going to tell him.” Hale growled, low and threatening, just like the wolf, John thought hysterically, maybe he was having a hallucination.

“I was going to, eventually, I didn’t think he was gonna get Sheriff-napped by pixies, did I?”

Pixies, John thought. Why not?

His son was stood between a naked Derek Hale, who may or may not have been a wolf a minute ago, and Scott, who was wearing side burns and false teeth, and they were talking about pixies.

John wasn’t even surprised when Isaac, Erica, and Boyd raced through one of the doors looking just as furry as Scott. Or even when Allison and Lydia followed. Allison carrying what seemed to be a small artillery, and Lydia carrying clothes that she wordlessly handed over to Derek.

John looked at the small medley of mostly high school kids from where he was still gently swinging in the net above them, sighed deeply, and simultaneously thought _I knew it_ and _my son is going to give me a heart attack before I’m 50_.

They used a ladder in the end.

-

Werewolves.

He could probably forgive Melissa McCall for not dropping that furred bombshell on him.

He was back in his own home, with his own whiskey (Stiles’ protest had been shot down with a glare) and eight sheepish faces surrounded him, waiting for him to speak first.

“Werewolves?” he clarified. Several nods.

He took another swig of alcohol. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse than what I was imagining.”

“What were you imagining?” He looked at Stiles’ guilty face.

“Drugs, most likely.” He then gave a pointed look at the group of them, “A cult, maybe.”

“No, just the occult.” Stiles laughed nervously. Lydia sighed, like she couldn’t believe Stiles. John sympathized.

He looked around the whole group, before settling on Allison. “Congratulations.” He lifted his glass to her. “You’re the only one not in my file. I guessed everyone else, but not you.” She looked proud of herself.

“You have a file?” Stiles yelped.

“Of course I have a file, you were all acting so goddamn suspiciously.” They lapsed into silence for a while.

“So,” Lydia started, “what now?”

John took a large gulp of whiskey. What now, indeed.

-

Lycanthropy, John figured, was one of those problems that were best thought about after a long sleep. He was going to go to bed, and then in the morning, and only in the morning, would he think about the fact that the supernatural not only existed, but that it existed within a close proximity to his son. And he was going to have a large black coffee when he did.

-

-

-

**ii. And the law won**

Derek Hale was 24 years old. He had been accused of murder on two separate occasions. He was a werewolf. He was also asleep on John’s son’s bedroom floor.

John cleared his throat loudly.

Stiles awoke. Derek did not.

Derek had his face pressed into Stiles’ pillow. John was right about Stiles having gotten over the Martin girl, he wouldn’t even share that pillow with Scott when they were younger.

Stiles looked between John, who was stood in the doorway, and Derek who was curled up alongside Stiles’ bed. Stiles puffed his cheeks out in thought, before slowly letting the air out.

“Well?” John asked.

“Oh.” Stiles’ eyes popped in realization, and his shoulders relaxed from their tense, defensive position. “You know now. Oh, he was keeping guard, you see, to make sure those- those pixies didn’t come back for you, or me, and he was just sitting on the roof in the cold and so I told him to stop being an idiot and come inside because it’s cold out, I mean, werewolves run hot so in retrospect it probably didn’t matter but it doesn’t mean they can’t feel the cold at all a-”

“Stiles.”

Stiles took in a deep breath. “Sorry. I forgot for a minute that you knew. I don’t have to lie anymore. Which, thank god, because I wasn’t sure how to explain this otherwise.” Stiles grinned.

John softened. Stiles looked so relieved to not have to lie, and John realised that as hard as it was for him to know his son was lying to him, it must have been equally as hard on Stiles to continually tell those lies.

“Just,” John sighed, and looked at the conked out werewolf on his son’s bedroom floor, “Just tell him to use the guest room next time.”

“Yes sir.” Stiles beamed, and John could help but return it. Dealing with werewolves will be worth it, if it means his son won’t have to lie to him anymore.

-

It had only been a week and Stiles was lying to him again.

Well, maybe not lying, but he certainly wasn’t telling John the whole truth. The whole truth being that his son was dating Derek Hale. Which Stiles had so kindly left out of his ‘Everything You Missed: Supernatural Edition’ lecture in John’s pre-work, coffee fueled lycanthropy morning the other day. There had been a PowerPoint.

The point was John had learned everything, or at least been told everything (it was very early) down to a minute detail about werewolves, hunters, and kanimas (oh my) but his son had thought the fact he was dating a 7-years-older, leather-jacket-wearing, goddamn Alpha werewolf was a detail that could be spared in his Supernatural Welcome Pack.

He and Stiles were going to have words about what classified as ‘life saving’ supernatural information, as John believed it should include any romantic relationships with people like Derek Hale to spare John the almost heart attack he’d had in the cereal aisle at the local supermarket when he spotted the two of them _grocery shopping_ together.

John had been buying a bottle of whiskey to replenish the one he drank last week when he heard Stiles’ voice. He naturally followed it to its source in the cereal aisle where he found Hale looking incredibly cozy in his son’s personal space, Stiles was holding two packets of cereal out in front of him discussing their merits with himself, not with Hale, because Hale was just gazing at the side of Stiles’ face with a besotted expression.

“… but you know how Isaac looks when we get his favourite, he looks so happy, who am I to deny him?” Stiles went to put one in the trolley, “But this one is so much healthier for the puppies, especially with their training, Derek what do I do? Derek!” Derek just placed both in the trolley before pushing it forward with one hand and gently nudging Stiles forward with the other hand, placed on his lower back.

John followed.

They laughed, well, Stiles laughed and Derek looked on fondly, and they talked with their heads pressed close to each other’s, Stiles talked about meals that they could make together. They were completely in their own little world.

John could forgive himself for missing the werewolf secret. He could not forgive himself for missing this though. Had his son been so estranged from him that he missed the fact that his only child was in a committed relationship? John had assumed from the late night window hopping that something was happening between the two boys, but John trusted his son and had given him the sex talk when he was fourteen, and an updated one a few years later when Stiles told John he was also interested in men. John had been mentally prepared for the fact that his son had started having sex, and trusted him to come to John if he had any concerns or questions, what he had not been prepared for was whatever this was- a serious looking relationship shaped thing.

Derek was currently scrunching up his nose at the smell of some microwavable meal, Stiles threw his head back and laughed before plucking the offending item out of Derek’s hands, throwing it back on the shelf and dragging Derek further down the aisle by his hand.

That didn’t look like a booty call.

John waited for Stiles to wander off to the meat counter, before cornering Hale.

“Hale.”

Derek’s eye widened as he turned to look at John, John was pleased to note the edge of fear on the man’s face.

“Sheriff. How- er how are you?”

“I’m fine, I’d be a lot better if you could tell me what you’re doing with my son.”

Derek coughed, “We’re, um, grocery shopping, sir.”

John hmm’d flatly. He stopped himself, he had to respect Stiles’ choice of partner, even if he didn’t like it, it didn’t mean he couldn’t still scare the boy though, “Derek, you understand my position at the minute, why I might not be comfortable with you and Stiles- with your relationship with my son. I still don’t know a lot about you, and your first impression wasn’t the greatest,” Derek winced, “so, you’re coming to dinner next Friday so I can get to know you better.”

“Um.”

“It wasn’t an invitation. I’ll see you next Friday.” John spun on his heel and quickly walked out of the shop without buying anything.

Oh dear god.

His son was _dating_ Derek Hale.

He should have bought the whiskey.

-

The week leading up to his dinner with Stiles and Derek was possibly one of the worst in John’s life, he couldn’t believe he’d been so blind towards their relationship; the signs were _everywhere_.

It was like they were taunting him.

-

Sunday.

A ten-minute warning. That’s what Stiles had given him. A quick ‘pack’s coming round for movies’ before his son darted into the kitchen to start cooking a truly ridiculous amount of food.

The doorbell rang; John opened it because Stiles was trying to navigate his way around the kitchen with a stack of ten empty pizza boxes in front of him.

Erica stood at the door with a wide smile, “Sheriff, good to see you, are you staying for pack movie night?” John smiled back, informed her he probably wouldn’t, and then helped her carry several blankets inside. Boyd followed behind her bringing bags filled with clothes and food.

“Oh, Stiles is cooking food now.” John reassured when Erica mentioned there might not be enough to eat.

Boyd just grinned at him.

Twenty minutes after Erica and Boyd arrived John didn’t recognise his own living room, all the furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room, several duvets had been placed to cover the vast majority of the floor and different pack members were curled around and on top of each other with blankets covering them. There were packets and plates of food placed on every inch of the floor that wasn’t being used by a person.

John looked on with barely concealed horror.

Scott paused as he passed by John, carrying yet more food through from the kitchen, “Hey, my mum really appreciates you letting us crash here tonight, we usually have movie night at mine so it’s nice she gets a break now you know about this stuff.” Scott smiled at him and then continued on and crashed down between Isaac and Allison.

John hoped Melissa appreciated it, she was probably laughing at him right now.

He skirted round the pile of high schoolers (and Derek) sprawled across his living room floor and made a hasty retreat upstairs.

-

It was when he was leaving for his early shift the next morning that the problem happened. He tried to get dressed and make his way down the stairs as quietly as possible, overly aware of sensitive werewolf ears.

He stuck his head through the living room door to check on his kid, but mainly to check on his living room. Which was thankfully still in one piece. And so was his kid, the problem was that one piece of kid was lying half sprawled on top on Derek, who was wide-awake and looking at him with a guilty expression. The two of them were flat out lying on the sofa, while the rest of the pack were sleeping on the floor in varying levels of uncomfortable looking positions. John would never understand how teenagers could sleep like that.

Stiles grumbled in his sleep and buried his face further into Derek’s shoulder and gripped Derek’s shirt loosely in his left fist, he also wedged one of his legs further between the older man’s splayed ones, so he was effectively straddled across Derek’s thigh, but John was ignoring this fact for the sake of his sanity. He was also going to ignore the involuntary little huff Derek let out when Stiles had done it.

Once Stiles had finished rearranging himself, Derek glanced back up at John. “Sir, I-” he trailed off, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to explain himself. John could see what might even be called a blush below the scruff on Derek’s cheeks.

John was too old for this, or maybe he wasn’t old enough. He’d been so close to Stiles leaving for college before he had to deal with his son being involved in a romantic relationship. John sent his eyes skyward for a brief second. Claudia would have been so much better at this. “Just have this mess cleared up before I get back. Make sure they’re up for school in time.”

John hoped Parrish fancied a run to the diner for breakfast; he could do with a greasy burger.

-

Tuesday

It was all Melissa’s fault really.

“Scott thinks he left his Chemistry textbook in Stiles’ room, you couldn’t check could you?”

John was the idiot who did, however.

He found Derek’s leather jacket in his son’s room; unfortunately that wasn’t the worst part. The sleeve of the jacket had been caught between some textbooks on Stiles’ desk, the jacket itself hung on the back of the desk chair, so when John went to move the jacket it upset several textbooks and sent them flying to the ground. Along with a condom packet.

An XXL condom, to be precise.

At least John found Scott’s textbook.

-

John was straight, and therefore being so he had never really considered the ins and outs (bad word choice) of gay sex. He had read several terrifying pamphlets to prepare Stiles’ sex talk after his son had come out as bisexual, he had tried to gloss over any diagrams, no one needs to know that much about their child’s sex life, but he had dutifully read every detail he could because he wanted his son to have all the necessary information to make safe decisions.

John looked at the XXL condom he had placed on the kitchen table in front of him. He knew it wasn’t Stiles’, John had accidently found Stiles’ condom and porn stash when he went to pick up all of Stiles’ dirty washing once. John needed to stop going into his son’s room without prior warning. The point was though; Stiles had a pack of regular sized condoms. So this, John gave a quick look to the foiled package, must be Derek’s.

And while John didn’t know much about gay sex, he figured it couldn’t be too far off straight sex, in the sense that, if it was too big and you weren’t careful, it could hurt the receiving party.

John gave one last glance towards the condom, before gingerly picking it up and placing it in his pocket, took a deep breath, strengthened his resolve and headed to the pharmacy.

-

John didn’t think he could look poor old Mrs. Collins in the eye again after buying several different types of personal lube and a box of XXL condoms from her. Although she did wink at him.

-

John called at Derek’s loft around noon, just before his shift started.

Derek opened his door; the man in question was dressed in sweatpants and a soft looking jumper, thick glasses perched on his nose.

“Sheriff.” Derek smiled, there was a nervous edge to it, but it seemed genuine. John admitted he looked less like the town bad boy you didn’t tell your friends you were seeing, and closer to the boyfriend you bring home to meet your parents. John noticed Derek had been smiling more lately, the young man had suffered a tough hand in life and John was pleased to see he was starting to do things for himself, things that made him happy.

Just because he half approved of Derek didn’t mean he had to make it easy for him.

John wordlessly handed over the leather jacket. Derek took it, and fumbled for an excuse.

“Just returning it, don’t worry, son.”

Then he handed over the plastic bag with the lube and condoms in, “However, if you make it hurt for him, I can get my hands on wolfsbane bullets and make it hurt for you too.” John grinned menacingly, he was pleased to note the werewolf’s eyes widen slightly, “Good day.” John spun on his heel and left, feeling rather pleased with himself.

He just had enough time to stop by Melissa’s to drop off Scott’s textbook before heading to the station. Today was looking up.

-

“Did you give Derek condoms and lube?” Was Stiles’ first sentence to John after he arrived back home from work. John wondered when exactly Stiles had spoken to Derek today. How often had Stiles visited Derek when John hadn’t been home?

Stiles had started rambling on a tangent about doppelgangers vs. long lost twins in John’s silence, “Yes, I did.” John cut in quickly, he knew his son, and if he didn’t stop him, they’d be on the topic of pod people before he knew it. John laid out some recent missing persons files he’d brought back from the station on the kitchen table, and started sorting them by date. Stiles sat opposite him and started helping.

“Why? It’s not like werewolves even need condoms, they can’t catch STIs or anything.” John paused in what he was doing. “And unless you’re worried about Derek getting somebody pregnant, are you worried about Derek getting somebody pregnant?”

“No, I just hope you’re being safe is all, werewolves might not be able to catch STIs but they might be able to carry them.” John said carefully, he didn’t know if Stiles knew that John knew he and Derek were having sex.

“They can’t, and you mean the general werewolfian ‘you’, right? Because Derek and I? We’re not- Derek Hale and I are not having sex, and trust me, I would definitely remember if that had been happening, like _definitely_-”

“Okay,” John held his hand up to stop Stiles right there, no wonder Derek had looked like he was going to protest when John made assumptions about him and Stiles, maybe Derek was waiting until Stiles’ 18th birthday in a months time, John found himself pleasantly surprised, “But still remember to be safe when you do okay?” John turned back to the case files, and by doing so missed the odd look Stiles gave him.

“Sure daddio, but why do you think Derek and I are-”

John inhaled a sharp breath.

“What?” Stiles knew that breath intake, “What is it? What have you found?”

“Ah shit, I need to go back to the station,” John picked up two of the case files and started heading towards the door. “Are you gonna be alright on your own, son?” John shot over his shoulder as he hastily put his jacket back on.

“Yeah, I’ll probably just invite Scott and Erica round for video games.”

“Okay, but if Derek comes round, remember it’s a school night, don’t stay up too late.” Before Stiles could respond, John called a goodbye as he headed back out the front door, he felt much better about Derek sneaking into his son’s room now that he knew it was fairly innocent in nature.

At least that was one worry off his mind, John thought as he climbed in the cruiser, stomach sinking at the bad news he was going to have to deliver at the station.

-

Wednesday passed by, mercifully, with no issue.

John had to work late on the missing child case, but when he arrived home he saw Derek’s Camaro parked on the drive, he felt better knowing that Stiles hadn’t been home alone all evening, and dear god, when had he started trusting Derek with his son’s safety?

Maybe his son dating Derek Hale wasn’t as bad as first thought. Derek was a good man, if sometimes misguided. He clearly respected Stiles, and cared for him. He also had a healthy respect for the law, or maybe just John’s new wolfsbane bullets.

John, at any rate, had mostly come round to the idea of his son dating Derek.

-

Thursday

John was an idiot, he didn’t know why, out of all of Stiles’ lies, he had believed that one; waiting until Stiles was eighteen, his _ass_.

John had come downstairs Thursday morning, only to find there were several bruises littered around Stiles’ neck; the bruised skin was an angry looking purple colour. And there was a slight limb to Stiles’ gait as he moved around the kitchen.

John watched as Stiles happily went about making pancakes as if nothing was wrong. John wasn’t naïve, he knew what hickeys were; he had given his fair share of them during his teenage years, it was just, seeing them on Stiles was making John feel every one of his 48 years.

“Morning Daddio, sleep well?” Stiles’ grin disappeared in the face of John’s muted stare. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

John looked into his son’s open expression. John didn’t remember those marks there when he’d come in last night, admittedly he’d only briefly stuck his head in to check Stiles was asleep, also to check Derek was in fact in the spare room. If those marks had only appeared at some point during the night then John was forced to come to one conclusion.

“I would appreciate it if you and Derek actually kept up the pretense of sleeping in separate rooms, son.” John tried to put on his best disapproving voice, but it seemed to come out as mostly resigned.

“What? Derek did sleep in the spare room last night, why would he sleep in my room?” Stiles looked genuinely surprised at John’s line of questioning. John gave him a flat look in response, followed by a pointed look at Stiles’ bruise littered neck.

“Oh.” Stiles’ eyes went wide.

“Oh?” Derek chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

“Derek, so glad you could join us, we were just discussing the bruises on my son’s neck.” John lifted his eyebrow at the young man in question, and watched Derek squirm where he stood, while glancing furtively back in the direction he just entered.

“Sir, I can explain.” Derek started, when it became apparent he wasn’t going to be able to escape unnoticed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I tried to get him to stay behind but he- well, he followed me and the rest of the pack to the woods, and when she saw we had a human in the pack she went straight for him-”

“Wait,” John held up his hand to stop Derek talking, “Who’s she?”

Derek glanced at Stiles, before looking back at John and tentatively saying, “The witch? The ones who bruised Stiles? She only had her hands around his throat for a few seconds before I could get to them, but –”

“I have a delicate complexion,” Stiles snorted. John glared at him in disapproving.

“You were strangled by a witch?” John looked between the two boys in his kitchen, trying to work out if they were lying, “And his limp?” John shot at Derek.

“She threw me into a tree.” Stiles answered, John watched Derek wince at the words.

“You’re telling me that after I left, you both went out to the woods, a pack of werewolves fought off a witch, during which Stiles bruised his neck, and then you two returned home and slept in separate bedrooms, and all of this happened without a noise complaint being sent to the station?”

“We were fairly deep in the forest.” Stiles nodded.

John sighed, first his son lies about spending time with the supernatural, and now he’s using the supernatural to lie about spending time with his boyfriend, John clearly needed to start reading different parenting books.

“So you’re definitely sticking with the witch story? They’re not hickeys on your neck?” John asked dubiously. Derek choked slightly.

“Yes. I don’t know why you think Derek’s giving me hickeys, although, werewolves and hickeys, man, I don’t know what it is but Scott’s a menace for it, why do you think Allison and Isaac always wear scarves? Although Isaac is the one repressing his healing factor so really he-” Derek coughed, interrupting Stiles’ chatter.

“No Sir,” Derek said, “Definitely not hickeys.” There was a blush on his cheeks, and the tips of his ears had gone red, just like when John had caught Stiles asleep on Derek at the pack sleepover.

“Sure.” John said, unconvinced. Did they think he was born yesterday? He was so getting bacon for breakfast.

-

Friday

John sat at his desk in the station, dreading going home. It had been getting closer and closer to eight o’clock, and he really couldn’t put off leaving much longer.

After yesterday morning, and a bacon-less breakfast, _Stiles_, John had rolled his eyes and left for work. Throughout the course of the day it had slowly sunk in that his son was in a relationship with Derek, and although Derek wasn’t necessarily the worst choice, it was still a shock after so many years of Stiles being single, and pining after the Martin girl, and while he was happy for his son to be in a committed, reciprocated relationship, it still meant that his only son was in a_ committed reciprocated relationship_. With _Derek Hale_.

John reserved the right to freak out a little.

Derek hadn’t been over yesterday evening, so it had just been John and Stiles, although they had spent most of the time watching television in the living room and ignoring the elephant in the room. Or at least, John was ignoring the elephant, Stiles was texting it, if the goofy smiles on his face every time his phone pinged was an indicator of who he was texting.

However, it was now Friday, Derek was coming round for an official ‘Meet the Father’ Dinner, and John was still sat in his office at five minutes to eight, wondering if it was too late to back out even though he had been the one to set it up.

“Sir, I didn’t think you’d still be here.” Parrish sounded surprised; he was stood there with several files he’d clearly intended to leave on John’s desk for him to review in the morning.

“I’m a little scared to go home,” John sighed, and then added when he saw Parrish’s alarmed face, “I’ve got my first meet-the-father dinner with Stiles’ boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Parrish said, relaxing. He started forward towards the desk, sorting the files before placing them on the desk, “He and Derek told you then?”

John’s head snapped up, Parrish still casually placing files in order on his desk, “You knew?”

“Urr,” Parrish suddenly had the look of a deer in headlights, “Well, I mean, I’ve seen them together in town before, I just kind of extrapolated-” Parrish dropped the rest of the files on the desk and started heading towards the door as subtly as he could.

“_Jordan_.”

“I was on patrol a few months back and I saw them, down an alley, Derek had Stiles pressed against the wal-” Parrish’s voice trailed off at the look on John’s face, “I figured it was best not to mention it, I mean it was very dark, it might not have been th-”

“All right, enough. I’m going home now, I’m going to forget this happened.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Parrish breathed out a long breath as John brushed passed him to exit the office.

-

John saw the Camaro parked outside the house when he got back; he took a deep breath before entering.

The first thing he heard was laughter, he closed the front door quietly behind him and walked through to the kitchen, he saw Stiles dancing out of Derek’s reach, holding a mixing bowl above his head, “Stop ‘tasting’ it, then be none left, greedywolf.”

Derek let out a growl, more of an indignant rumble, before darting towards Stiles with a wide grin on his face.

Stiles laughed as Derek dug his fingers into his sides, all the while trying to escape Derek’s grasp, “Oh my, mister wolf, what sharp claws you have!” Derek dug his fingers in Stiles’ side deeper until Stiles was breathless with laughter.

“I’m not saying ‘all the better to tickle you with’, forget it.” Derek deadpanned, but there was a definite twitch to his lips.

“Spoilsport,” Stiles jeered breathlessly as he finally wriggled out of Derek’s arms, he was doing a small dance of victory when he spotted John standing bemused in the doorway, “Dad! There you are, thought you would have been back earlier than this.”

“Sir.” Derek had turned sharply to face John when he heard Stiles’ cry, the man’s ears turned pink as he and John both realised the implication that he’d been too distracted by Stiles to notice John’s approach. All traces of the previous light-heartedness had gone, and he faced John seriously. John thought he’d looked several years younger only moments before.

Stiles looked between his father and Derek and, sensing the tension between the two, loudly broke the silence with, “So who’s ready for dinner then?” Derek and John both raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

-

“So, Derek, what are you doing these days?”

“I do translations for books and television shows.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I like it.”

-

“So how many languages do you speak?”

“Four, sir.”

“That’s impressive.”

-

“So-”

“Oh my god Dad, please, this is painful to watch. Just ask all the invasive questions you’ve been dying to ask and get over it with the small talk.”

“Stiles!”

“_Stiles_.”

“I’m simply trying to get to know Derek here, as your father I would like to get to know your boyfriend a little better-” Stiles spat out the sip of drink he had just been taking.

Now, there aren’t many times that John manages to surprise his own son, but when he does, he likes to at least know why it’s surprising.

“B-boyfriend?” Stiles gapes.

Derek’s eyes bulged and his cheeks turned pink. “We’re not dating.”

“Well you two are- I mean I thought you were both- What do you mean you two aren’t dating?” John was becoming less and less convinced with his own conclusions by the second in the face of their surprise. Surely Stiles had actually _said_ he was dating Derek, or at least mentioned it in passing, _Christ_, they’ve talked about werewolves and STIs, and hickeys, _surely_ they can’t have gone through both those conversations and-

John looked at Stiles’ muted disbelief and Derek’s horrified red face and realised he must have gotten the wrong end of a very boyfriend-shaped stick.

“Oh god.”

“Why do you think- _oh my god, you were giving me the sex talk about Derek!_ Oh my god, that’s what the condoms were about!”

John was still staring in incredulity at his son and his son’s apparently-not-boyfriend. He thought the signs had been so clear, how had he gotten this wrong, “But you had hickeys, and-”, how had Parrish gotten this so wrong, “a couple of months ago Parrish saw you pressing Stiles into a wall in a alley for Christ’s sake.” He directed the last bit towards Derek whose blush started spreading down to his chest.

“We told you that was a witch!” Stiles yelped.

“You mean it actually was a witch?” “Yes.” Derek said imploringly, looking like he really wanted to leave the table lest the sheriff shoot him.

“And the alley?” John pointedly looked at Derek.

“I was mad at Stiles, he threw himself into danger again,” he shot the last bit at Stiles, “and I er-,” he coughed, “I was worried about him so I pushed him into a wall?” Derek gradually slowed his speech, as if he didn’t want to reach the end of the sentence, seeming to realise how odd his logic was when spelling it out.

“No, that was only a couple of weeks ago, I doubt Parrish would have seen it anyway, it was probably that time we had to fake make out for that siren.” Stiles threw in, ignoring John at this point.

“We were in Beacon County then, Parrish definitely wouldn’t have seen that.”

“What if it was that time you pushed me out of the way of that shadow monster thing, I’m sure we ended up against the wall!”

“Parrish would have seen the monster too, as well as the rest of the pack who were all there at that time,”

“Oh yeah, what about-”

John raised his eyes skyward. “Okay, enough. If you two aren’t dating, then what did you think this dinner was for?” Stiles and Derek glanced at each other before Derek tentatively said, “I thought you wanted to ask more werewolf questions, and you said I hadn’t made a fantastic first impression, what with running towards your son in full shift, and I thought you wanted to make sure I was a suitable Alpha to look after your son,”

“When I said you hadn’t made a great first impression, I meant as a boyfriend climbing through my son’s bedroom window every other night,” John looked at their faces and sighed in relief that he’d gained back control of the conversation again. Derek’s cheeks, which had faded to a muted pink, flared back up for a second time in embarrassment, and Stiles let out a small noise of protest.

“That’s not what it looks like-” Derek started.

“Clearly.”

“-we were just doing research.”

“Or occasionally watching movies,” Stiles added.

John sighed, “So you’re telling me that you two aren’t dating,” Stiles and Derek shook their head in confirmation, “you climbing through my son’s bedroom window was completely innocent,” again confirmed, “and all of this is one massive misunderstanding?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

A beat.

“I’m having another drink.”

Derek slapped a hand over Stiles’ mouth before he could protest.

-

Unfortunately Stiles got his way that particular evening, mostly because John still hadn’t picked up a replacement bottle of whisky after the supermarket debacle, which according to Stiles was just him doing the weekly grocery shop with Derek, which was apparently a regular occurrence, but they definitely weren’t dating. John wouldn’t believe them, if it weren’t for the fact that they had no reason to lie at this point.

Which meant he had to sit through the rest of the ‘meet-the-boyfriend’ dinner, which was actually a ‘meet-your-son’s-alpha’, somehow weirder, and notice the way Derek put extra helpings on Stiles’ plate, and the way Stiles wordlessly got Derek another drink without having to be asked. The way the two of them knocked shoulders and the way the hugged at the end of the night, and somehow it was weirder watching this knowing now that they weren’t dating.

John watched as Derek tucked his nose into Stiles’ shoulder when they hugged and almost nuzzled his son for Christ’s sake, although he made a hasty retreat after seeing the alarmed expression John was sure was on his own face.

“Are you sure you two aren’t dating?” John asked as soon as the door closed behind Derek.

Stiles and John both pretended they hadn’t heard Derek stumble over the last step as he heard John’s remark through the door.

“No dad,” Stiles said emphatically, nervously glancing towards the door as if Derek was going to barge back through loudly proclaiming how wrong John was.

“But you like him?” John wasn’t stupid. He liked to think he knew his son well enough to know when he liked someone, even if he wasn’t loudly proclaiming it at every turn like he did with the Martin girl.

“No.” Stiles said shiftily.

John sighed. He didn’t need to be a werewolf to know that was a lie.

-

Somehow watching his son and Derek skirt around each other while still invading the other’s personal space was an enthralling balancing act John wasn’t sure how they pulled off, and also incredibly frustrating.

Now John was officially ‘in the know’ he was allowed to join pack meetings. Derek felt it was important to keep the local authority abreast of any goings on that may be happening so John wasn’t wasting police resources on killers he couldn’t catch.

John thought that seemed reasonable and mature of Derek, although it was hard to take him quite as seriously as a leader when his son was mostly sprawled on top of him during pack meetings, the two of them always cramming onto the same overly large armchair. Derek shooting him apologetic glances every so often, although never actually making a move to do anything about it. John had mostly gotten use to Stiles’ particular brand of pushy charm, and let Derek off the hook for it.

Although apparently he was going to have to sort out his son’s love life, since neither of the two idiots were going to do anything about it.

He’d asked Erica once, when they bumped into each other in town, away from prying werewolf ears, if Stiles and Derek had always been like that with each other.

She nodded, and then kind of scrunched her face up in thought, “Well, the touchy feely thing is still kinda new, but they’ve always acted like an old married couple, and Derek’s always been more protective over Stiles,”

“Because he’s human?”

Erica gave him a ‘are-you-stupid’ look that John probably deserved, he hadn’t genuinely believed that, but thought he should clear it up just in case.

“Right. Okay then, I have an errand I need to run, thank you Erica.”

She’d nodded, “No trouble Sheriff,” She gave a cheeky grin and flounced off.

Which is how John ended up once again outside Derek’s flat.

“Sheriff.” Derek stood up straighter, looking for all the world like he wanted to slam the door shut again. He did relaxed slightly when he noticed the Sheriff wasn’t carrying any sort of bag this time.

“Derek,” John smiled, and tried to put the boy at ease, “May I come in?”

Derek nodded hastily and practically tripped over himself letting John in. By the time they’d gotten through pleasantries and offers of drinks, and sat down in the living room, Derek looked like he was about to vibrate out of the seat in nervousness. Although John noted he wasn’t sat in the wide armchair he favoured when Stiles was round, but a narrower chair that definitely couldn’t have held the weight of two grown men. Interesting.

“So Derek. I realize I may have jumped to conclusions about the nature of yours and Stiles’ relationship, however, I don’t believe those conclusions were founded on nothing.” Derek started shifting in his seat, “Would I be right in assuming there are some- feelings there?” John coughed uncomfortably.

“I-” Derek looked like a deer in headlights. His eyes darted across the room, looking for a change of topic, or an escape.

“Look son,” Derek’s eyes snapped back to John, “If there is, and I won’t pry anymore than I already have, if there is, then maybe you should consider acting on those feelings,”

Derek opened his mouth to speak, already shaking his head slightly.

“Ah,” John held up his hand, “If there isn’t then ignore me, but, and I think there is, if you have any feelings for Stiles, just know that there are no halves with Stiles, he only knows how to do things full force, which may seem overwhelming and hard, but he is unbelievably loyal, and once he’s made up his mind, no self sacrificing nonsense from you will change it. Claudia was the same,”

Derek stopped trying to protest at that.

“It’s not that simple,” He whispered.

“It is that simple, you’re a good kid Derek and you’ve been dealt a rough life, you’ve got to do things that make you happy, and if dating Stiles is one of them, then you’ve got to go all in, not this semi-non-dating you two are doing at the minute, it’ll just make you both miserable in the long run. So do something about it or don’t, but either way you have to stop this because my first and foremost priority is my son, and I saw him pine over the Martin girl, and I won’t watch it happen with you if you feel the same,”

“Stiles isn’t pining over me,”

John tried his best to emulate Erica’s ‘are-you-stupid’ look from earlier, clearly it worked to some degree because Derek got a small pleased grin on his face and said ‘Really?’ in the happy voice of someone who already knew the answer.

“Now,” John clapped his hands, “On to a slightly more comfortable topic, I have a proposition for you,” Derek looked at him but John could tell his mind was still on Stiles, John rolled his eyes mentally, he should have ended on the Stiles topic.

“I know I provide the link for the pack at the minute for law enforcement, but I think I could also benefit from a werewolf on the force.”

Derek nodded seriously, back into Alpha mode, “I agree, and I’m sure Stiles would appreciate someone helping you if things get supernatural at the police station again. I don’t think Isaac and Scott would be keen, Erica might, but I don’t know how well she would follow any set of rules, or have enough control at the minute, Boyd might?” Derek stretched, seeming unconvinced himself, “You’d have to wait for them to finish school at any rate, they do graduate soon though so…” Derek caught sight of John’s face, “You weren’t thinking of them.”

John shook his head, “But I do know a werewolf with impeccable control, and who isn’t in high school, and currently doesn’t have a full time job.”

Derek’s mouth dropped slightly, “Oh.”

-

It took some wheedling, but Derek caved eventually. John should have told Stiles about the plan sooner, because as soon as he’d told Stiles, he’d gone on an excited ramble, jumping on Derek in excitement and laying out plans and ideas, and all it had taken to get Derek on board finally was Stiles to stop and turn his excited eyes to Derek and say, “You’ve said yes, right?” And Derek had helplessly nodded along. John had to cover his mouth to stop his grin. Stiles was unbelievably like his mother sometimes, and John just hoped Derek knew what he was getting himself into.

-

“Oh my god!” Stiles laughed. He’d gotten back from school to see Derek stood in the living room, in a deputy uniform.

“Stiles,” Derek glowered back. Although the effect was ruined somewhat by the fact his shirt was buttoned straight up to the top and his hair was flattened and neatly combed instead of in its usual spikes.

John watched on as Stiles completely invaded Derek’s personal space and started unbuttoning the first two buttons of Derek’s uniform, and tugging it to lie flat on his frame. John stepped forward into the room, and stopped Stiles’ fussing, although he didn’t move back from Derek.

Despite his chat with Derek, he and Stiles were still in dating limbo.

John resisted the urge to whack them both round the head and lock them in a cupboard together. He didn’t because he had a modicum of control, however, if the eye rolls and sighs of the pack were any indication they were tipping over the edge of doing it themselves.

-

-

-

**iii. guess my race is run**

Over the next few months several things happened, including Stiles’ 18th birthday, he insisted on a large backyard party and BBQ with the whole pack there. Derek even snuck John a proper burger, he knew he liked the man, but aside from that Derek was practically glued to Stiles’ side.

Stiles insisted wolves were tactile when John raised his eyebrow, but John noticed the only wolves that were cuddling to the same extent were all the ones in romantic relationships; Scott, Allison, and Isaac, Erica and Boyd. While they were affectionate with all pack members, more than normal teens were with their friends, it was not enough to explain away Derek being curled into his son’s side for the whole evening.

The whole pack did create a large puppy pile that night, after having turned the living room into a room-wide blanket fort and spent the next day watching movies with pizza while sprawled all over each other, Stiles curled between Derek and Erica, with Scott lying across his feet. Despite the hijacking of his living room John hadn’t seen Stiles this happy in a long time, and let them off with a fond eye roll.

Then it was the end of the academic year, and Stiles’ time at high school. John and Derek attended together, Derek insisted he was there on behalf of all the pack members, and acted like a proud mother hen the entire day. John noticed his arm remained around Stiles’ shoulders long after the ceremony, and even stayed when they arrived at the restaurant afterwards.

By the start of summer Derek seemed to be around more than Scott, although that could be because Scott was busy with Allison and Isaac, the three of them seemed to be in a adorable relationship that none of the elderly folk of Beacon Hills could understand, or help cooing over. The combined force of Scott’s puppy eyes, Allison’s dimples, and Isaac’s puppy eyes and dimples had enraptured the OAP community, who pinched their cheeks and wished them luck at every opportunity. Something that made Chris Argent twitch whenever it was mentioned.

A fact which John took advantage of whenever Chris stormed into the sheriffs station on his high horse, demanding John investigate Hale for whatever animal attack, or unexplained disappearance was in the papers that week. John would nod, say he speak with Hale, and then casually ask after Allison’s boyfriends and Argent’s mouth would snap shut audibly, it never failed to make the sheriff smile.

As if Derek could be behind the recent animal attacks, John had come home the other evening from a hard day at work where a camper had be found brutally mangled by an animal to find Derek Hale with his head in Stiles’ lap, and hear a deep rumbling that sounded suspiciously like purring whenever Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. John was starting to think werewolves were just overly large housecats.

An observation he kept to himself.

The animal attacks weighed heavily on John’s mind. Derek insisted it was no one in his pack, which John already knew, and also that he couldn’t smell any other werewolves in the area, which John didn’t know but also threw out his best theory.

John thought this was normally the time Stiles would be lying his ass off, disappearing at odd times, and reappearing at crime scenes. Now the wolf was out the metaphorical bag though, John knew exactly where Stiles was disappearing off to, which while it was reassuring he knew exactly where his son was, knowing his son was deep in the woods looking for whatever ate several hikers was doing nothing good for John’s blood pressure.

At least now he could see behind the scenes to know Derek was chasing after him every time Stiles ran off to do something stupid, and whenever Stiles stood still for longer than three seconds Derek looked like he was on the verge of wrapping the boy in bubble wrap and hiding him from the world.

John understood the feeling, and for the first time since Claudia died John knew that there was another person in this world who would do anything for Stiles’ safety.

Which was why he knew he had to keep Derek safe.

Derek working part time at the station was a blessing, he had still wanted to work as a translator, but couldn’t hide the fact he loved being paid to patrol the woods. John had to go round with him, when they patrolled the woods because Derek would occasionally carve claw marks into certain trees, or rub his hands onto them, marking them with his scent. Something John didn’t feel he could explain away to the other deputies. He had a hard enough time trying to hide the fact Derek sniffed, and occasionally _licked_ the evidence. John was relieved none of the deputies seemed to have noticed yet, and outraged as they were meant to be observant.

All the hassle had been completely worth it for the look on Argent’s face when he stormed in and demanded John investigate Hale, and the man himself popped his head around the door and smiled toothily at Chris.

“Chris. I’d like you to meet Derek Hale, he’s started part time at the station, he’s an expert in animal behaviour.”

“You-”

“What with all these animal attacks recently.” John managed with a straight face.

Argent fumed quietly, before storming out. He didn’t come back for the rest of the week.

-

John wondered if it would be immoral to use his superiority to order Derek to ask his son out. John has never once used his authority over someone for personal reasons, he just outsmarted them by use their own logic against them. A trait Stiles seemed to have inherited, along with Claudia’s ability to talk her way around something in such a way that the opposing party forgot what their original argument had been.

The point was the Stiles and Derek situation was getting ridiculous and John was so close to throwing away the integrity of the badge.

Since Derek started helping at the station John noticed the coincidental visits Stiles made to see him increased, and while Stiles dropped off a salad for John, he and Derek would most often then leave to go and have lunch together at the burger place down the road.

It was while he was angrily sat eating his salad - there wasn’t even chicken in it - that he wondered if Derek not asking Stiles out was for a different reason other than cowardice.

Stiles was starting college in a few months, and John couldn’t help but wonder if Derek thought Stiles should be going to college single. While John could see where Derek was coming from, he wondered if Derek hadn’t underestimated how stubborn Stiles could be. John knew for a fact that Stiles gave up on his dream of going to Berkeley and had enrolled in Beacon Community College.

When John has protested that Stiles shouldn’t stay in Beacon Hills if he’d been wanting to go to Berkeley for years. Stiles had turned to him with a serious expression that John only saw when shit was going down, and Stiles said “A degree is a degree, it doesn’t matter where I get it from at the end of the day. What’s important to me now is my pack, and that I’m here for them, within calling distance, if something happens. Priorities change dad.”

John wondered when his son grew up. He’d been expecting a childish argument, with lots of arm flailing and loopholes being exploited. In the last two years Stiles had matured, and matured quickly.

So it had been settled, Stiles was going to stay living in Beacon Hills, although he was moving out of his father’s house, and commute to college.

John wondered if he had told Derek his change of plans, because John knew Derek had seen the acceptance letter from Berkeley, and anytime someone mentioned college, Derek’s shoulders would tense up to his ears and his gaze would flit to Stiles. But he never said anything.

In the end John took pity on him.

They had been having a conversation about what the rest of the pack were doing for college/careers and Derek’s shoulders had started the upward ascent to his ears, and he started pushing his food round his plate, forgoing his normal three piled helpings. Stiles made a comment about getting a flat, and how he was excited to get his own place.

“Won’t you be in halls?” Derek asked suddenly.

Stiles frowned, “No? Besides, I don’t think I would ever have chosen to go into halls, I mean I know they help you socialise but there’s no privacy, I can’t exactly whip out the bestiary or have one of you bleeding to death and miraculously healing in front of a roommate, not to mention the puppy piles.”

Derek nodded, but looked pleased at the mention of pack in Stiles’ place.

John could see how they’d gone through months of misunderstanding about where Stiles was going to be.

“Because Stiles is going to the local college. He’s staying in Beacon Hills.”

Derek made a surprised face, and all the tension he’d been holding melted out of him.

Stiles looked at John strangely “Yeah, duh”. John couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the difference in Derek yet. Who was now going for his second helping and had a small smile playing around his lips.

“Anyway Scott and I were thinking about getting a place on the border of the preserve, when we were kids we always planned to live together,”

“You can’t live on the border, somewhere in town would be safer.” Derek insisted, filling up Stiles’ glass with a practised motion.

Stiles huffed, “You’re such a worrywolf, we’ll be fine, Scott’s a werewolf in case you forgot, and Isaac’s probably gonna be there all the time anyway. Two werewolves and my bat, we’ll be fine.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed, and John knew their patrol of the wood would now swing round to accommodate Stiles’ new place along the edge of the woods.

When Stiles had been ‘going to Berkeley’ Derek had been getting increasingly mopey as Stiles’ leaving date got closer and closer, and it wasn’t often Stiles could be seen without Derek like a limpet at his side, and John called bull on that just being ‘werewolves are super tactile dad’ it was different now Derek knew. Not that he stopped doing his limpet impression, but now when he did it he was smiling.

Not that John thought a 3 hour long drive would stop Derek.

However, Stiles and Scott’s plan to move in together hit a snag. Scott was going to continue training under Deacon to become a vets’ assistant, but then Scott and Isaac decided to move in together as Isaac was also attending college with Stiles (which Derek had offered to pay for). They found a small one bedroom flat near the vets, and they both done puppy eyes at Stiles until he caved and helped them move in. Allison was going slightly further afield, about an hour and a half away and so would be living on campus, although they set up half her belongings in Scott and Isaac’s place. Chris Argent was still twitchy about it, but at least he stopped outright reaching for his gun whenever he saw Scott or Isaac.

Derek was annoyed at Scott for bailing on Stiles and insisted Stiles move in with him instead.

John was incredibly suspicious of how Stiles would have afforded rent anyway. Stiles insisted he would have gotten a job, but John was sceptical.

Since Derek owned his place Stiles didn’t have to pay rent, Derek was adamant. Stiles said he still wanted to help pay bills, and that it would be nice to have some extra cash, so was determined to find a few hours work somewhere.

Since Derek had started part time, the station didn’t really need anyone to do the filing and paperwork, and it seemed like the highest form of nepotism to invent a paid job for his son, especially when the station was so low on funds. Stiles had said it was alright, and that he would rather work somewhere where every staff member hadn’t known him since he was a baby.

Stiles moved into Derek’s, and continued looking for a job for the few weeks before he started college.

John was excited for Derek and Stiles to live together, as they’d practically been dating for the best part of a year from the sheriff’s perspective, longer for the pack if Scott’s encouraging smile was anything to go by. John wondered if Scott and Isaac living together had been the plan all along.

John thought maybe this meant Derek had finally pulled his finger out and done something about asking Stiles out.

When John tried moving a box of Stiles’ things into Derek room though, Derek frantically shook his head and pointed at the room next door, his eyes darting around to see if Stiles had noticed.

John rolls his eyes but drops the box in the other room.

The next time he and Derek are patrolling the woods John reminds him of his warning back before the start of summer. “There is a time limit on this, son. I don’t want to rush you if you’re not ready, but I also don’t want Stiles getting hurt. And you dragging this along with no intention of doing anything is going to hurt him. Understand?”

Derek nodded, “I will do something about it, I promise.”

John nodded, but Derek looked slightly wild eyed with nerves so he wasn’t holding his breath for anything to happen soon. He did drop the topic though.

-

In a selfish way, John was glad Stiles hadn’t moved hours away. It was strange being on his own again, a situation he’d only been in between the ages of 22 to 24, after he finished school until he and Claudia lived together. The difference was made more apparent due to the fact that Stiles was such a loud presence in the house, along with the five werewolves and two other pack members who were round at least once a week since the sheriff found out about the supernatural.

So it was nice to know he could invite Stiles and Derek round for tea, or that Stiles might swing round in the evening because he forgot something.

He felt Derek probably felt the same, he understood why he hadn’t wanted to stop Stiles from leaving if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t help the selfish sigh of relief that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Not that the house was quiet still. Erica sometimes popped round, especially since she started the police academy, often with Boyd in tow. Boyd had decided to study at the same community college as Stiles and Isaac. He was sure they even had a class all three of them were in together. Sometimes when Erica came round on her own Boyd would have gone to a study session with Stiles and Isaac.

The only ones who left Beacon Hills were Allison, who was only an hour and a half away and so was back most weekends, and even some evening when she didn’t have an early start the next day. John has heard Chris arguing that she needed to ‘experience college life’. John didn’t think she was going to change her mind any time soon.

Lydia left as well. The pack had a joint going away party for the two of them. Lydia headed off to MIT. According to Stiles, who Skyped with her once a week, she already had the whole maths department wrapped around her finger. John wasn’t surprised, he wouldn’t be surprised if she graduated in two years and took over the world. But with years of Stiles spouting sonnets of Lydia’s genius, John was mostly under the impression she could do anything.

John was glad Stiles and Lydia had become friends. During their last year of high school they could often be found surrounded by stacks of books in different languages in the Stilinski living room. Lydia would often say it was nice to finally have some competition for valedictorian, now Stiles wasn’t almost being killed on a weekly basis and could focus on school. Stiles said Lydia was the only one he would willingly surrender valedictorian to.

All that translating apparently did Stiles the world of good, because Derek managed to set him up with a contact through his own translating work, and suddenly Stiles had a part time job, online, for a research professor at a college about 2 hours away, helping with translations of Archaic Latin. Stiles said it paid well and that it was all about mythology, so interesting and useful. Stiles was singing Derek’s praises for weeks.

Something Derek didn’t stop preening about.

John wondered if providing was some weird werewolf courting, and if it was he was just glad it hadn’t involved any dead woodland creatures on his doorstep, and if it did involve woodland creatures, he was glad he and Stiles no longer lived in the same house.

-

John often visited Stiles at his and Derek’s flat, especially after college started and Stiles didn’t stop by his house or the station as much. John notes the place is decently clean and figures this is down to Derek, but Stiles’ textbooks are stacked on the kitchen counter, as if he was still trying to read and cook at the same time. John wonders how many dishes he’s burnt because he’d gotten distracted with something. There are multiple layers of burnt food crusted to oven trays at his own house to attest to Stiles’ bad habits.

The food was always good. Stiles cooks, Derek washes the dishes, and they sit and all watch telly after, it’s surprisingly domestic. Throughout dinner Stiles keeps mentioning someone called ‘Mike’. Mike did this, you won’t believe what Mike said to the lecturer, Mike and I got paired on this project. Derek purses his lips each time but doesn’t say anything. It isn’t until they’re in the living room that John works out what has Derek so upset.

“And Mike’s a werewolf! How cool is that, it’s so nice to be able to talk to someone about this stuff, whose not in the pack you know?”

John nods politely but he can see Derek on the verge of asking why he doesn’t want to talk to someone in the pack.

“You should be careful” Derek finally says, and by Stiles’ eye roll John knows this is something they’ve talked about before.

“I know what you think,” Stiles said grumpily.

“I’m just saying we don’t often have coincidences around here.”

“Coincidences?” John asked.

Stiles beats Derek to the punch, “Mike moved into the next town over before the start of summer, there’s no pack there, but it’s technically outside our borders, so he’s not technically encroaching on our territory.”

“He’s an omega, no pack, and he moved here around the same time the animal attacks started happening,” Derek said flatly.

John turns to look at his son, “Stiles-”

“Oh come on, it might just be a coincidence, it’s totally plausible, the animal attacks might just be that, animal attacks. Some mountain lion finally getting revenge for all the times we’ve cried wolf before, no pun intended. There have been no other signs that this is supernatural, no other weird happenings in town,”

“Except the attacks take place once a month.” Derek counters.

“Not on the full moon though.” Stiles looks triumphant.

That had been his and Derek’s sticking point too.

“Just be careful okay.” John says quietly. Stiles was normally the one convincing them not to assume normality given where they lived, insisting every twig snap was the supernatural. John purses his lips, it was unlike his son to be so cavalier when the pack could be in jeopardy.

John and Derek shared a look while Stiles huffed and went to grab himself another drink. When he sat down Derek had the bubble wrap look again. John wasn’t 100 percent sure his face wasn’t doing the same.

-

It was a month before John heard Mike’s name again. Stiles seemed to have stopped saying it around him and Derek, but judging by Derek’s nose twitching and the fact every time he saw Stiles he practically rubbed himself all over him, John didn’t think Stiles had stopped hanging out with Mike.

John had briefly hoped it might get Derek to finally admit his feelings, but it had just made him grumpy. Then Stiles didn’t know why he was being grumpy so they were both miserable at the minute and spent a lot of time separately at John’s house.

It was October when John met Mike.

Stiles came into the station, excitedly towing a stranger behind him. John eyed them as they wound their way through the desks, before heading towards John’s door. Stiles came into his office without knocking, he was in the middle of a meeting with Erica, but John is too curious about the man behind his son to pull Stiles up on his bad manners.

“Dad, Erica, this is my friend Mike, from college. Mike this is my dad, the sheriff. And my packmate Erica.” Stiles waved his hands between the three of them.

For a second John couldn’t move, because this man, Mike- he’s-

Mike is totally like Scott.

John doesn’t know why his first thought is Scott because Mike looks nothing like him. He was blonde, quite short for a bloke, but stocky, John could see his shirt was stretched against the telltale werewolf muscles. But there was something there.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Mike said jovially, and bounded forward to shake John’s hand.

He smiled wonkily, and scrunched up his nose as he stretched out his hand for John to shake and John could not believe Stiles had managed to find another Scott.

He was upbeat and sort of goofy and just - Scott like.

“Oh my god,” Erica said lowly, but full of mirth.

Judging by the fact Mike’s eyes kept flitting from Erica’s face in a downwards direction and that he had not so subtlety checked out the female desk sergeant when he arrived, but had not so much as batted an eyelash at Parrish or Derek was a fair indicator of the man’s preferences.

Although Derek currently looked more like a murderer they’d brought in than a member of staff. Especially as he stormed up to the office door, with a face like a thundercloud. He rapped on the door, at least someone had some manners, and stuck his head round.

“Can I speak to Stiles for a second?” Derek said, his teeth gritted together. His eyes flashing briefly red at Mike.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but followed Derek out the door.

Mike looked worried, “I didn’t mean to upset anyone,” he said as soon as the two had disappeared out the front of the station into the car park.

“Don’t worry, Derek can be a little possessive of his toys.” Erica said, her grin shark like.

“Are they close?”

“Very,” Erica purred.

“Oh, oh!” Mike’s eyes went round in understanding.

John waited to see how Mike would react.

“I knew he fancied a guy in his pack but he didn’t tell me it was his alpha. Wait, does Derek think that I-? Not that Stiles isn’t great, he’s just not my type, you know-”

Erica looked delighted at Mike’s panicking face.

“Don’t worry. Derek won’t hurt you,” John grinned, placing his hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Much.” Erica said.

“Erica.” John shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged.

“I know what it looks like but I’m not trying to get a way into the pack, I just, I was so excited I found other wolves at college, I’ve been on my own for a while. Hunters killed my pack and I had to go on the run.”

John resisted slapping his hand to his face, but it was a near thing. Stiles never could resist a bleeding heart.

“And then Stiles was in my class and was so nice, and he seemed happy to have someone to talk to who knew about the supernatural, I was a beta in my pack, I was trained to deal with mythological creatures, we had a lot of different supernatural types crossings through our land, so Stiles and I started talking about different supernatural creatures and-”

“It’s alright.” Even though John knew the kid was a werewolf, he was slightly concerned the kid wasn’t breathing while he was trying to get all his words out.

Mike grinned, took a large breath and continued, at a slightly slower pace, “He told me you were having trouble with animal attacks, I thought I could take a look, as a favour to Stiles, because he’s been so nice,”

John looked at Mike’s earnest wide eyes and mentally laid out another setting at the table for thanksgiving.

-

Derek was pining. John didn’t care that he was referring to a six foot, 200lbs, literal werewolf, there was no other word for what Derek was doing. Apart from childish.

“Maybe if you talked to Stiles-”

“About what?” Derek said.

John and Derek were sat in the cruiser having lunch. Despite Derek being annoyed at Stiles he was still insisting they eat semi-healthily. John thought the upside of putting up with Derek’s moping would mean he didn’t have to have chicken wraps.

“You know what.” Derek feigned innocence, as if he hadn’t been staring longingly out of the window.

John drew the line there. He dropped his wrap back in the packaging, “You are an adult Hale. Act like one, and use your words.” John didn’t often call Derek by his surname anymore, preferring to use his first name, or words like ‘son’ or ‘kid’, he noted that Derek had noticed the difference as well.

“It’s not just Mike.” Derek said.

John had rather been hoping he’d use his words with Stiles, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“What else?” John said when Derek didn’t continue, maybe that did constitute Derek using his words, even now he was comfortable in John’s presence he wasn’t the most verbose man.

“I was going to rebuild the house. I had it knocked down a few weeks ago.”

John’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. He wondered if Stiles’ knew, or if this petty not talking to each other had prevented Derek from informing Stiles about a fairly major decision on Derek’s part. John hadn’t noticed a difference in Derek’s behaviour over the last few weeks, but after everything Derek had been through, John imagined he was probably a pro a bottling up his feelings.

“I haven’t spoken much with Stiles lately, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Or Mike is with him. It’s just-” Derek’s eyes were looking suspiciously wet. “The house being knocked down was harder than I thought, I don’t think I could rebuild, not strong enough, not without-” Derek’s voice cracked a little, and his jaw clenched shut.

Not without Stiles.

“Derek,” John was not brilliant at comforting, especially comforting someone who had been through more hardships before 25, than most people had in a lifetime. Whenever he’d had to break bad news as part of his job he’d stayed calm, sincere, and concise. “Strength is not about your ability to withstand life’s obstacles in solitude. It doesn’t make you weak to have a support system, or to rely on it, that’s what they’re for. Talk to Stiles, tell him what’s happened. And as for Mike- have you actually talked to the boy?”

Derek shook his head.

“Talk to him, maybe without Stiles there. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, but nodded. John just hoped it didn’t take him as long to fulfil this promise as it was taking for him to ask Stiles out. Mike may have graduated college and moved away by then.

-

“Okay, from what you’ve told me, and a quick run round the preserve, I think you have a mermaid problem.”

They were having a meeting at Derek and Stiles’ flat. The whole pack was there, including Allison who had come back for the weekend, and Lydia, who was on Skype.

“Mermaids.” Derek said flatly.

Mike nodded.

Derek did appear to have talked alone with Mike, and subsequently seemed less murderously angry towards him, but right now his tone and facial expression were completely flat, excluding his eyebrows, which were angled alarmingly downward.

“We’re not near a body of water.” Derek said, which was why they’d immediately discounted the possibility.

“There’s a river in the preserve, she probably doesn’t live there permanently. We had one that had been cursed by a witch, and transported. Or a pack a few towns over from us had one that had wanted a change of scenery and then couldn’t get back,” Mike said.

“But mermaids don’t tend to eat humans,” Derek insisted.

“Not when they have plenty of other options in the ocean, humans are too close to mermaids so it’s almost considered a sort of cannibalism, but she’s desperate, if you say these attacks have been going on for nearly a year, she’s probably starving.”

“A mermaid though!” Stiles said, shifting excitedly in his two-person armchair with Derek, “What are they like?”

“Vicious.” Mike said solemnly.

John supposed that figured.

Apparently mermaids were as like their depictions in Disney movies as the fairies who kidnapped John were like Tinkerbell. Which was to say, not at all.

-

The mermaid they were looking at would have fit right at home in the Brothers Grimm, or maybe a Tim Burton movie.

Her skin was grey, and slick looking, like a dolphins, it wasn’t so much half fish, half human, as it was all aquatic mammal. The top bit look vaguely humanoid, in the sense that she had two arms and a head. Her arms were shorter than a humans and had vicious looking claws on the end. Her mouth was too large to be human and opened up to reveal rows of horrifying teeth. At the end of her tail were two more stumpy legs, almost making her look like a lizard, it looked terrifying, and also had the horrifying implication that she could skitter up on to the bank of the river and chase them.

Apparently due to the combination of gills and human lungs, mermaids were amphibious.

Fantastic.

And they were fast, Stiles nearly lost a leg because he was staring in awe, looking two seconds away from taking a picture like a gaping tourist. Mike managed to pull him out of the way just in time.

“When they lower their front half down like that, it means they’re about to pounce,” Mike explained, he started walking towards the mermaid, carrying the bucket of fresh fish they’d had to gather before they’d come.

As Mike got closer the mermaid made a continued grating sound that seemed to be coming from her chest but sounded like an engine trying to start with multiple missing parts. John had heard Roscoe enough to know what that sounded like.

Derek pulled Stiles behind him and started backing up.

The mermaid eyed Mike closely as he approached her with the bucket.

“These are for you.” He tipped the bucket over and the fish slid towards her.

John watched as she devoured its contents in a flurry of flying fish bones and teeth. Everyone looked slightly horrified. Out of the corner of his eye John saw Stiles raising his phone up to take a video, and Derek pushing his arm back down again.

When the mermaid had finished Mike continued, “You’re on Hale Pack land. We want to help you get home,”

The mermaid, whose name was a series of clicks from the back of her throat, which Stiles proclaimed sounded like Margaret, was lovely once she’d eaten. Margaret had laughed at Stiles’ name choice and decided she’d like it, trilling ‘Margaret’ over and over. She told them she’d gotten drunk at a party and ended up in the river but had no idea how, or how to get back.

Mike had called in a few contacts that he’d made back in his previous pack, and the next day a group of men came and loaded Margaret in the back of a van filled with waterproof tarp and salt water in a makeshift pool.

She even offered to have them round for a party on her beach as a thank you, and waved them off.

John was both relieved and a little disappointed that his first proper supernatural crises had been resolved so easily. Mostly relieved. He had been looking forward to threatening the use of his new wolfsbane bullets though.

-

Derek had warmed to Mike. Whether this was because of his help with the mermaid issue, or because when the man first saw Allison he had gone completely starry eyed, finally sealing the nail in the coffin on any attraction to Stiles. Although John was now completely convinced Mike was actually Scott from an alternate timeline.

Mike had quickly realised Allison was not interested and had respectfully backed off. They seemed to have bonded over bestiaries though, as they often scanned through the Argent’s and Mike’s old pack’s bestiaries, filling in any corresponding gaps in the other. Lydia and Stiles sometimes joined them, translating where needs be.

Mike had not been officially inducted into the pack, but he had been invited to all subsequent pack meetings after the mermaid incident. He was also present when Derek announced the Hale house renovation.

It had been a few weeks since Derek’s confession in the car to John, and John had no idea whether Derek had mentioned anything to Stiles, as no further information had been forthcoming.

It was nearly thanksgiving, and the pack had been discussing whose house was best equipped to fit them all around a table, when Stiles and Derek had side eyed each other, and Derek had shyly suggested them could hold it at the Hale house, which he was planning on building again.

Everyone had been ecstatic, and loudly starting planning what would go in it, and features they wanted designed in. Lydia, present on Skype, had demanded Derek immediately send her any blueprints he had and she would start working on something. Apparently she had finished all her assignments for the rest of the term already and was looking for a new pet project.

With most of the pack crowded around Stiles and Derek’s coffee table, writing out a list for Lydia, John sidled over to Derek, who was looking on the scene with a smile on his face.

“You think it’ll be ready for thanksgiving?”

Derek shook his head, “I’m hoping to have the structure built by then, the foundations have already been laid. Stiles says we can cook here and carry the food to the house, he said we can eat on the floor if necessary.”

“You think you can get the structure done in the next few weeks?”

Derek nodded in Mike’s direction, who was tentatively smiling at being asked his opinions of granite countertops in the kitchen, even though he clearly had none, “Those guys Mike got for the mermaid, apparently the pack are mostly labourers, doing odd jobs for the supernatural community, one of them even works as a therapist for supernaturals. Mike visited her after what happened to his pack.”

John wondered if Mike had set Derek up with the therapist’s number, he might need it for the rebuild of the Hale house, “You’ve got werewolf labourers in.”

Derek nodded, “It’s a big pack, the Hartright pack. They said they’d send ten guys down next Monday, they work quicker than regular builders,”

John lightly clapped a hand on Derek’s shoulder, “I’m happy for you, son. If you need anything, let me know.”

Derek gave him a small pleased smile.

“Wait, Hartright? As in the old sheriff?” John should have known better. The jammy bastard had been a werewolf all along.

-

As Derek predicted, the structure of the house went up within a few weeks. It helped that the builders were stronger and faster than average humans, and could work longer into the night because of their vision.

A few days before thanksgiving the whole pack, minus Stiles and Lydia, were stood in front of the house, admiring it. Stiles had gone to pick Lydia up from the airport.

The house hadn’t been built as an exact replica for what was there before. Derek, with Stiles’ prompting, had admitted it would be too much to see the house’s interior exactly as before, it would be too easy to imagine ghosts in the old rooms. So the interior had been changed around, including a below ground level bunker. For difficult full moons, or to be used as a safe room in case of emergency.

John was happy for Derek, although he was at his absolute wits end with the boy. It had been nearly a year since John had found out about the supernatural, and John understood that Derek needed time, but his concern for his son’s heart was growing. Stiles was slowly building his life around Derek, and if he had no intention of ever making a move on Stiles, after John had specifically warned Derek about this, there would be words. Strong words. Possibly bullets.

John had even tried asking Lydia to take Stiles’ room out of the blueprints so the boys would be forced to share a room. He had been mostly joking, having caught Lydia briefly while she’d been on Skype, Stiles having nipped to the bathroom.

“They’re still skirting around each other?” Lydia asking, her lips pursed distastefully.

John nodded, “Derek said he needed time, but that was the best part of half a year ago. I’m not sure he’ll ever make a move,”

Lydia looked surprised, “You didn’t speak with Stiles?”

John shook his head.

“Well, there’s your problem.” She huffed, as if she should have expected to clean up the mess herself, “Don’t worry, leave it with me.”

John was thinking over the conversation when Stiles’ Jeep pulled up. John had thought they were going to drop Lydia’s things off at her house before swinging by, because while the new pack house was standing, it was bare bones inside.

Stiles came storming out of the Jeep, having barely stopped the vehicle before flinging himself out the driver’s door, “_Derek Jasper Hale_,” he shouted, “We are having words. And I will speak to you-” Stiles swung and pointed a finger at John, “later. Derek!” Stiles called as he stormed into the new pack house.

Derek followed.

“Anyone with werewolf ears caught eavesdropping gets wolfsbane in their thanksgiving meal.” Stiles shouted without turning around.

The wolves made themselves scarce, even though Erica looked incredibly put out about it. Lydia got out of the Jeep primly, and brushed the imaginary dirt off her skirt.

She walked over to John, and linked arms with him, before steering him towards where the pack had disappeared, a long walk in the woods it seemed.

“You were coming at it from the wrong angle.” She said, with a note of ‘you’ll learn’ in her voice, “Derek would never have made a move; too many excuses not to, too old, a werewolf, too much baggage. No, the momentum in that relationship is all on Stiles.”

“So why didn’t Stiles make a move?”

“He didn’t know it would be welcomed,” Lydia huffed at John’s expression, “I’m afraid that’s rather on me,” Lydia looked guilty, which wasn’t a look John had seen on her before, “Before I knew Stiles, before we became friends, I was horrid to him and the way he felt about me, I can never express the regret at how I treated him and I’m afraid it battered his self esteem somewhat.”

John nodded. He was glad Stiles and Lydia had the friendship they had now, and he enjoyed Lydia’s company, but a small, selfish part of him would never forgive her for how she treated Stiles.

“I set him straight on a few things.” She said vaguely.

John raised an eyebrow. She gave a small, pleased laugh, “I told him Derek was ass over tit for him, and if he got his head out of his ass and told Derek how he felt, Derek would be on him in a New York minute.”

John was shocked silent for a minute, and then laughed, “Who have you been socialising with at college?”

Lydia laughed, and they continued walking to catch up with the rest of the pack.

-

Thanksgiving dinner was chaotic. The whole pack was crammed around the largest table they could find online, which was the only furniture, aside from the chairs, in the house. Even then, they could only find six matching ones, so everyone else was sat on stools, or collapsible camping chairs.

There was no kitchen fitted at the minute so everything had been cooked at different people’s houses and rushed to the pack house so it was still hot. They ate off paper plates because everyone had forgotten to bring any proper ones, and afterwards they all collapsed on an assortment of pillows and blankets that were on the floor in what was going to be the living room.

Stiles was curled up in Derek chest, murmuring about furniture, “We should have one of those massive L shaped sofas there, and then a big four seater sofa there, and –”

Derek was smiling softly at Stiles, he had a glint of fear in them, but also awe.

John knew the feeling well, remembered years ago holding a baby in a hospital room, so much in love already but terrified to mess it all up.

John looked around at all the pack.

Isaac was fast asleep between Scott and Allison, who were whispering sweetly to each other. Erica and Boyd playing some complicated game with their hands, while chatting happily to Melissa McCall. Lydia was talking to Mike, who hadn’t been officially inducted into the pack but would be soon if Stiles had anything to do with it. He, Mike, Lydia and Allison seemed to have formed some unholy alliance of friendship that John was slightly scared of.

John had somehow become the adoptive father to six teenage werewolves, two teenage girls, and a broody Alpha werewolf. Although he might become the legal father in law of that last one. Lydia had come up to him earlier when Derek and Stiles were distracted and asked if he wanted to join the betting pool for when Derek and Stiles would get engaged.

He gave it a year before Stiles proposed.

-

-

-

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles saw the packet of condoms, “XXL? My dad sure thinks highly of you.”
> 
> “Stiles!” Derek hissed, scandalized. The tips of his eyes were turning red, Stiles cooed. 
> 
> “Maybe he just extrapolated, your jeans are very tight, and they leave very little to the imagina-”
> 
> “Stiles!”


End file.
